Silent Terror
Welcome BOILS AND GHOULS, come settle into my CASTLE here, for a RANCID-READING OF SHIVERING-SHRIEKS ha-ha. Have some GINGERDEAD COOKIES, as you all listen to this LURID-LITERATURE I call... It was back during 1954, that there was a small cabin with a forest behind it down in southwest-Tennessee one Spring evening. A very young boy gazed out a window of the cabin, seeing somebody back in the woods. The boy went outside, rushing into the wilderness to where the person was at. The kid saw the person was a mime, wearing a beret of black, white gloves and a black and white-striped, long-sleeved shirt, along with black pants and shoes. The eyes of the mime were painted-on crosses of black, and it black-lips were painted-on as well. The boy stood laughing next to the mime and it held out a vanilla-flavored ice cream cone to the child. The boy took it and said to the mime: "gee, thank y'all". The mime started jigging all around and made the gesture of opening up an umbrella. He made the gesture of holding the umbrella up, above him and the boy laughed, eating the ice cream cone. "Bobby!" a woman's voice called out from the cabin and the young boy turned and ran out of the woods. The mime opened its mouth and made the gesture of hissing, but was silent. Its fangs of black glistened in the moonlight. The next evening, little Bobby returned to the woods and saw the mime. The mime quietly waved to him and danced around, making the gesture that he was holding and swinging a cane. Bobby laughed at it. The mime put his one gloved-hand behind his back and brought it out again, holding a balloon of yellow suddenly. He handed it to Bobby and the kid said to him: "thank you". Then, there was the noise of sticks breaking in the woods. The mime's mouth dropped-open with a loud crack and Bobby saw its blackened-fangs. Bobby let out a scream, letting go of the balloon. As it floated up, in the air, another vanilla-flavored ice cream cone the creepy mime pulled out from under his black beret, letting the cold treat mysteriously float into the air from its hand. A bully came out of the forest and saw young Bobby standing at the edge of it. "Howdy there, shrimp. Y'all come with me now or else!" he said to Bobby. "No why?" Bobby asked him. "Because otherwise I'm gonna kill y'all. You'll never see your folks again kid" the teenage punk told Bobby, and revealed a pocket-knife. Bobby gasped in surprise and fear, looking over and seeing that the mime had mysteriously disappeared along with the ice cream cone. As the punk grabbed Bobby's arm tightly, thick claws of black sunk deep into the bully's sides, causing him to scream in intense pain. The sharp claws protruded from torn gloves of white, and as the teen let go of Bobby's arm, Bobby noticed it was the mime behind the bully. Black slime was oozing on the nose of the mime and suddenly, white, pupil less-eyes cracked through the painted-on crosses that were its eyes. More of the ooze streamed out from around its new eyea, oozing around them, a line of ooze streaming down its left-cheek and ended at his painted-on mouth. The mime cracked-open its mouth and now its piercing fangs were white and grew longer. The monster turned the teenager around and the teen got a clear look at it, screaming louder. The creature silently pierced its sharpened fangs into the punk's shoulder, and little Bobby hid his face with his hands, as the bully screamed in terror and agony. He stopped screaming and Bobby peeked in between his fingers seeing the thing drag the teen's dead body back into the wilderness slowly. Bobby gazed down and saw the yellow balloon at his legs, he grabbed it and looked at his other hand. The ice cream cone was suddenly in it. "Bobby, Bobby!!" a man's voice called and the kid ran back to his cabin, seeing a man standing in the doorway, drinking a bottle a Jim Beam Whiskey. "Papa, I am alright" Bobby said to him. "Good m'boy. Come in, it's bedtime ya here!" Bobby's Dad told him with a grin. "Yes sir" Bobby smiled and followed him inside, as his dad started to sing, "Dixie Land". That mime sure taught that punk the OLD SLAYING, "YOU SNOOZE YOU OOZE" aha-ha-ha-ha-ha! And as for little Bobby, he found out that sometimes you have to SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM heh-heh-heh-heh.